Acts of Sacrifice
by DJ Quicksilver
Summary: When Arthas first attained Frostmourne, he disappeared into the frozen wastelands of Northrend for weeks. What if he didn't succumb to the Lich King's voice? What if he followed it and ascended the Frozen Throne early, for a much more noble reason...
1. 00 Only Darkness Before Me

_**Acts of Sacrifice**_

_**By: DJ Quicksilver**_

_Fanfic-wide Disclaimer – I do not own Warcraft OR World of Warcraft. These games and the lore that connects and expands on these games all belong to Blizzard Entertainment. I make no money off of this (the other way around actually, I loose 15 bucks a month to play the game!) and as such there is no reason to sue me!_

**Pre-Notes: Here we go again! Another plot bunny that won't leave me well enough alone! While I am currently stumped as to how to start the next chapter of Identity Crisis, I just had to get this down on Word and let it out, so please, read and let me know. Pairing for this story (if I decide to continue it) will be Arthas/Jaina.**

**Summary: When Arthas attains Frostmourne, he disappeared into the frozen wastelands of Northrend. What if he didn't succumb to the Lich King's voice? What if he followed it and ascended to the throne early, for a much more noble reason?**

_Prologue – Only Darkness Before Me_

I had lost count of time. The maddening voice compelled me to turn back. That it was not yet time for me to be here. I needed to go back to Lordaeron, to kill my father, to commence the invasion of the Scourge. To rouse the Cult of the Damned back into action. To follow, obey. I tried and tried and eventually managed to push the voice to the back of my head. Light above, it was getting harder and harder to even think anymore. No longer was it thoughts that drove me onwards, but pure determination to end this menace. I could feel the Holy Light wane within me with each step I took towards what I now knew to be the Frozen Throne. The glacier itself looked almost like a tower rather than the fortified fortress he once believed it to be. There was only one entrance. The entrance was also teeming with undead. Ghouls and abominations lined up by the thousands, waiting for the orders to march.

I should have known better, really. When I abandoned Light's Vengeance for Frostmourne, I knew that I had made a mistake. This was unlike any curse that I had ever experienced. The voice in my head was maddening. It took all of my willpower… STILL takes up all of my willpower to not just give into the voice and break the world in two… I once said that I would bear any curse for the sake of my people… but THIS… this wasn't merely me bearing a curse for the sake of my kingdom. No… this was me sacrificing every bit of my being for them. This Lich King was a threat to my father… to my love… to my people… it must NOT be allowed to leave the shores of Northrend.

I forced myself to move. I marched onto the tower before me. The undead monstrosities hissed at me in warning, but left me be otherwise. They can tell that I was kindred to them… the runeblade's aura was palpable to them. Perhaps it was a wise precaution that I left Falric and Marwyn behind… their presence would only slow me down…

I felt the chill of the place most deeply now. The warmth of the Light was receding, leaving me to my fate apparently. It did not approve of my actions. I was about to face off against the undead, to oppose the forces that would otherwise destroy this world so that the threat would never leave these shores, and in my hour of need, the Light abandons me. Are my actions really that horrendous?

I shake my head. 'Now is not the time to be having second thoughts, Arthas! You must press on!'

I started my ascent to the top of the throne now. I could no longer feel the glow of the Light. It has left me completely at last. I knew right then and there that I would no longer be able to call upon it for protection. My service to the world as a Paladin seems to have come to an end. I found it ironic that at that particular moment, in the hour of my greatest service to the Light and to my people would be accomplished not as a Paladin, but as a knight of darkness. I now knew what I was, and why the Light had left me. By embracing the runeblade, I had accepted a new calling. One which would damn me for eternity…

'_Arthas…'_ whispered a voice in my head. This one was different to the Lich King's voice. This one sounded almost like… _'Arthas… you have betrayed the Order… abandoned you people… turn back Arthas…'_

'Sorry, Uther,' I thought, 'but these actions are necessary. If my betrayal keeps my people safe, then I shall gladly do so.'

The voice changed now. _'Arthas… why have you forsaken me… why do you go against my wisdom… death is never the answer, my son…'_

'Father… this… I do for you… so that you might lead the survivors against what is coming for them…'

I continued the ascent. I was almost there. I was almost upon the Frozen Throne, I can feel it.

'_Arthas…'_ the voice nearly made me stop. Jaina was always my one weakness. She and she alone was able to tame me. It was now, in my hour of darkness that I miss her most. I close my eyes and feel tears start to well up. _'Arthas… why did you abandon me… come back to me… please?'_

'Oh, Jaina…' I thought, as I began to ascend the final steps. 'I am so sorry… I can only hope you move on with your life… my love…'

As I reached the top of the throne the coalescing voices recede. Before me was a throne, completely encased in ice. Armor was frozen in place, positioned just right so that it looked like there was an invisible being seated on top of the throne. The eye slits of the helmet where glowing an eerie blue.

'_You have arrived… Death Knight…'_ wrung the voice of the Lich King within my head. Death Knight… what an appropriate title now. _'You have ascended early… now is not the time for the sword to be returned… why have you not heeded my voice, my young servant?'_

I knelt down before the throne, whispers and thoughts ringing through my head. This time, the voices where too much to bear. I closed my eyes and prayed to the Light for strength. As expected, the Light did not answer. 'This is the course I must take… this is the path I must follow if Lordaeron is to stand a chance against what is to come…'

Steeling myself, I get up off my knee and march right up to the throne. I prepare to strike.

'_Wait! Wh-what are you doing?'_ rang the voice, not just through my head, but this time, through the entire chamber.

"Succeeding you… Master…" I whispered in response, hoping to stir fear within him. Letting out a vicious war cry, I drove Frostmourne deep within the Frozen Throne, right through the gap in the helmet where a face would actually be, were one to wear it. A white light flashed before me as the runeblade let out a grievous wave of power. I could hear the wail of the Lich King as Frostmourne consumed him. The crashing of ice surrounded me. A vicious pain shot up through my body and I screamed in agony as it threatened to rip me apart…

Finally, the light receded. The pain, however, did not. I looked at the throne before me. The ice surrounding it had shattered. The armor that was within it was scattered everywhere. The helm was at my feet. I looked downwards. A large piece of ice had pierced my abdomen. I stared in horror as the ice became red with my blood. I slumped down onto my knees, starting to feel weak from the blood loss. In desperation, I try to summon the Light to heal my wounds. Nothing. The Light has abandoned its champion completely. 'I truly am a being of darkness now…' I though. My journey is complete now. I slump down and lie before the Frozen Throne. At least I can die with the knowledge that I have prevented one of the greatest wars from ever taking place…

As my vision begins to blur, I hear grunts and moans. Scrapes and scratches. I lift my head slightly to gaze at what was happening around me. The ghouls and abominations where going wild! They where destroying everything! If they kept it up, they would render the Frozen Throne to pieces of ice cubes! I glance around, trying to muster every last bit of strength to find something to try and stop these monstrosities. My vision first falls to Frostmourne, the cursed runeblade. It was glowing an eerie shade of blue and white now. The spirit of the Lich King was no doubt feeding it now. My glance then went to the helm beside it.

"_Wait! Wh-what are you doing!"_

"_Succeeding you… Master…"_

Horror dawned upon me as the weight of what I had to do settled in. In a flash of inspiration, there, lying in a pool of my own blood, alone, facing my death in what had to be my darkest hour, I finally learned the truth – the Lich King was control. Without the Lich King, the undead would run around unchecked. They would now pose an even greater threat to his father's kingdom, and eventually, the world.

I steeled myself and struggled upwards. Ignoring the shooting pain, I crawled towards the helm, my purpose defining my ravaged body. What were probably mere moments felt like an eternity as I finally reached the helm.

"This… final act… of sacrifice… is mine…" I gasped out as I grasped the helm and pulled it to me. I stared at it for a moment before turning it and positioning it over my head. The voices had returned again, this time yelling at me to just let the helm go, to not take up the burden which I was about to place upon myself.

"There… must always… be… a Lich King…" I let out as I placed the helm above my head, sealing my fate, the voices reaching a crescendo. For a moment, the voices went still. At first I felt nothing. Then, I started to feel a stirring within me. Power, raw and unbreakable, started to course through me. I grunted as I felt the shard of ice that was impaling me shoot out. I clawed my way back up to my knees and wrapped my right hand around Frostmourne as my vision took on a slightly blue hue. I could feel the Frozen Throne tremble as the aura of power that was surrounding me started to take effect. I forced myself to my feet and stumbled into the throne itself, seating myself upon it. Immediately, I felt ice begin to form. I knew then that eventually, I would heal. I would not stay here forever. I would be back, and when I was, I would make the Burning Legion regret ever crossing my path. The new Lich King would wage a campaign against them the likes of which will shake the very foundations of this world…

To Be Continued…

_Post-Notes: Grrrrrr I did it again! I let the plot bunny in and I couldn't get it out until I wrote this little prologue. Now I'm going to have a second baby to look after! It was enough with Identity Crisis, but now I have Acts of Sacrifice to expand on! Oh well, what's done is done I guess. I will do my utter best to juggle the two fanfics and hopefully make them grand masterpieces. Please leave feedback, even if it's just to critique my work. I love hearing what readers think of my stuff, as it helps me grow as a writer for when I work on future chapters/stories. So keep reading, keep reviewing, and until next time, I'll be watching you…_


	2. 01 Dark Rebirth: Rise of the Damned

_Chapter 1: Dark Rebirth: Rise of the of the Damned_

The first thing that I became aware of as I awakened was the cold. It was a chilling jolt to the system, one that would make a lesser man weep for the warmth of home. The next thing I felt was the feel of strange armor. Whatever I was wearing was neither the Truesilver of the Silver Hand's plate armor nor the war armor of the Lordaeron Knights. No, this was… different. I groaned, the fog of sleep starting to fade. What was I doing… ah yes, that's right… I'm supposed to be dead. Recognition flashing through my head as my last memories quickly played out in my mind. The ascent to the Frozen Throne, ending my predecessor, and taking up his crown to ensure the survival of Azeroth. For the first time in what seems to be ages, I opened my eyes.

'It hasn't changed much…' I mused. I tried to flex my left arm, only to struggle. Looking closer through the frosty blue tinge that the world had taken for me, I saw that I was still somewhat covered in frost and ice. I closed my eyes and summoned some of my strength. I moved and was surprised at how easily the ice covering me broke and fell off. I braced myself and arose from the Throne ('_my_ throne…'), shaking the ice and the cobwebs off and took a few experimental steps. 'Everything is in working order, it seems.' Finally, I looked down upon myself and, for the first time, began to assess myself visually.

The armor I wore seemed to be the armor of my former predecessor, the one that was trapped within the ice when I struck him down with Frostmourne. It was black, with depictions of skulls everywhere. I had a cape, with a hood, and a scabbard for my runeblade. Fur lined my boots, obviously made for survival in the frozen wastelands. With the helm upon my head, I could only imagine how intimidating I must look.

"I have become Death…" I mumbled. "Destroyer of worlds."

"You have become much more than that, my lord," a voice exclaims. I look up to see a banshee floating towards me. "I am Shiva the Screamer, your Majesty. I am the head of your caretakers. Allow me to be the first to welcome you back to the land of the living."

I stared at her for a moment. She honestly looked like any other banshee, generic in her features. However, her aura felt more… sinister. Yet, there was a ring of honesty in her voice. Suddenly, I could feel her mind just beyond my perception. She was trustworthy.

"How long?" was all I asked her.

"Six years and five months exactly, your highness." She responded, knowing exactly what I was asking about.

I slumped back down upon my throne. I was asleep for over six years?

I stared at her, a grim expression taking over my face.

"Tell me…" I demanded of her. "Tell me everything…"

0-0-0-0

"_Shortly after your ascension, your powers encased you in ice, beginning the healing process and preparing your body to be able to withstand the powers you now wield. Your armor was magically transferred onto your person to better allow you to channel the necrotic energies you now command. This process was quite lengthy and took nearly an entire year in and of itself. During your slumber, the Burning Legion took advantage of the dimmed voice of your predecessor and took command of your field troops. They used the undead to completely decimate your homeland of Lordaeron. Yet, your kingdom was not the only one to fall. Much of Tirisfal Glade became corrupt. Stratholme became a breeding ground for the undead. The Barov family fell to the whims of Kel'thuzad, their lands and their crypt, Caer Darrow given to the Cult of the Damned, the human faction of what eventually became the Undead Scourge. Caer Darrow became host to the Scholomance, a school for the necrotic arts. The surrounding lands became the Plaguelands, a field of diseased and corrupt life. Through the Plaguelands, came the invasion of the High Elves of Quel'thalas. Though they put up a valiant fight, the city of Silvermoon fell, most of its denizens slaughtered, and their fount of power, the Sunwell, corrupted beyond repair to bring back the necromancer Kel'thuzad as an undead Lich. He now orchestrates the conquering of the Eastern Kingdoms via his floating necropolis, Naxxramas._

"_Over the course of the Third War, a new faction of Undead split from the control of the Burning Legion. The Ranger-General Sylvanas Windrunner was killed in the defense of Silvermoon and brought back to life as a banshee by Kel'thuzad and a Dreadlord named Varimathras. She later broke free of their control and sought out her corpse and reanimated it, becoming a Dark Ranger. She is currently the leader of the Forsaken, and has taken up residence underneath the Ruins of Lordaeron, where the Undercity thrives. The few survivors of Lordaeron fled south to the dwarven city of Ironforge, where they arranged transport to the kingdom of Stormwind, the last of the human kingdoms. Your father, Terenas Menethil, was said to be amongst the survivors, though we have not seen him outside of the city. _

"_Dalaran was next. Kel'thuzad by this time had summoned a horrible demon of the Burning Legion. Archimonde the Defiler successfully destroyed Dalaran before setting his sights on the continent across the sea: Kalimdor, home of the night elves. There, lay his ultimate goal: Nordrassil, the World Tree. It was here that he met his end, at the hands of the humans, orcs, and night elves._

"_Six years has passed since then, my Lord, and many struggles have been fought. The humans betrayed the last of the High Elves, now known as Blood Elves, and have cut their ties with the Alliance. They now are a part of the new Horde, consisting of the orcs and their allies, the tauren, the undead Forsaken, the Darkspear trolls, and the Blood Elves. The Human alliance has persevered since, and has taken a new ally, the draenei of the planet Draenor, which was also the homeworld of the orcs. Now, with the Draenei in their fold, along with the Dwarves, Gnomes, and Night Elves, the Alliance is now stronger than ever. The Burning Legion has, for the last two years, been trying to break into our realm to finish what Archimonde started in trying to eradicate us all. They have a small presence in Darkwhisper Gorge, to the south of Winterspring in Kalimdor, and in the Eastern Kingdoms they dominate the Blasted Lands and the Isle of Quel'danas, where they struggle to summon Kil'jaeden to this world through the remnants of the Sunwell, which was hidden somewhere within the isle. Several times, the Legion has gotten close to achieving its goals, and the Horde and Alliance are doing all they can to stop their presence once and for all…"_

0-0-0-0

I sat there, upon my throne, contemplating the summary that the banshee had put out for me. In six years, my beloved Kingdom had fallen, my lands corrupted, and my people shattered. My father… his fate was still unknown… only rumors of his survival floating about. What of Varian… was he even still alive? Did he succeed his own father as King of Stormwind? What of my beloved Jaina? Did she even survive? Did she make it to Kalimdor, the land beyond the sea which the old Prophet warned us about? So many questions that must be answered, and yet I knew that those answers where unobtainable for the near future. I had greater concerns for the moment.

"Hear me now Shiva," I growled at the banshee, "for you will be the messenger of my first command."

"Your will is mine, my Lord," she replied, bowing before me.

"This entire world is at war," I said as I stood, Frostmourne humming with power at my side. "This world is at war, and yet we are completely unprepared for its coming. We must fortify this continent if we are to survive the coming years. We must start by fortifying Icecrown. The citadel below must be expanded on. We will raise it high into the surface as a beacon of death to any who would dare try to invade. From there, we will expand outward. Send out missives to our forces in Kalimdor and the Eastern Kingdoms to seize all hostilities on the Horde and Alliance and withdraw to their respective strongholds. Let them know that they are NOT to initiate any confrontations, they are allowed only to defend themselves if need be."

"As you command, Master."

I watched as she floated away to carry out my commands. I turn back to my throne and stare at it for a moment. I can hear the screams in the back of my mind now. There is a connection between myself and my new subjects. Their voices where almost maddening, a chilling, piercing sound with enough rage to drive even the strongest of wills to the brink of insanity.

"I need to get out of here…" I mumble to myself, and I did just that. With Frostmourne at my side and the Helm of Domination upon my head, I set out.

0-0-0-0

Icecrown had changed very little in the six and a half years since I've been frozen… I have walked for nearly an hour, it seems. During my venture, I have begun to assimilate the knowledge of those under my command, those that are connected to me. Through this connection I have gained knowledge of what I had become the moment the Light had abandoned me: a Death Knight. The average Death Knight was a master of Undeath, Frost, and Blood. Through their runeblades, their power was formidable indeed. My runeblade, Frostmourne, on the other hand, was special. It acted in tandem with my Helm of Domination to channel the necrotic energies that the Death Knights wielded. The power of blood, the very life-giving substance that made life possible, capable of healing oneself and fortifying ones constitution to unbelievable heights. The power of frost, capable of chilling opponents to their very bones, with the power to deal devastating damage up front. The power of Undeath, the power which allows me to give new life to the dead, and the power to churn out diseases devastating enough to cripple even the strongest of foes.

All of this, I assimilated, new skills burned into my psyche, skills not too dissimilar to what I once knew as a Paladin of the Silver Hand. The very thought causes me to stop and take in my surroundings. I am at the top of a cliff, of sorts. Below are thousands of undead troops, marching towards Icecrown. No doubt ready to begin the fortifications I had asked for. I know not why, but the very sight of these creatures, these new subjects of mine, caused an old memory to surface; a conversation between father and son, which took place after a particularly harsh battle that I had led not too long after I had ascended as a Knight of the Silver hand.

'_My son… the moment you were born, the very forests of Lordaeron whispered the name… Arthas…'_

While the memory caught me off-guard, I felt something beneath my feet. Something big, enormous even. I knelt and wiped some of the snow gathered off of the ice, letting my ethereal vision gaze into the icy tomb, and came upon a monstrosity. One which I felt I could use… both as a weapon, and a beacon of death and despair for my enemies…

'_My child… I watched with pride as you grew into a weapon… of righteousness…'_

I got up and drew Frostmourne from my side, pointing it towards the ice before me, snowflakes falling around us as we waited, gathering energy from within and from without for the task that I had set myself to do. The sword seemed to almost draw energy from the snow and the frost around it, taking on a blue-ish hue as I began the channeling of runic energy.

'_Remember… our line has always ruled with wisdom… and strength… and I know you will show restraint when exercising your great power…'_

Sword brimming with power, I knew it was time. With my sword in both hands, tip facing downward, I knelt as I brought it down and pierced the ice to the hilt, channeling the gathered energies to the corpse encased within. A bitter wind started blowing the moment the energies where released, snow being scattered in all directions as the ice below started cracking and shifting. I stood as the great dragon below began to break free from her tomb below. I can feel the connection forming now… Sindragosa was her name… a dragon of great strength and power, which fell in battle over five thousand years ago, and former consort of Malygos, leader of the Blue Dragonflight.

Her left forearm was freed first, her claw slamming down mere feet from me. The ice behind me shattered as she rose, no longer a dragon, but now the greatest of the Frost Wyrm's. She will be their Broodmother, their Queen.

Finally freed from her tomb, she stalked overhead, blue frost energy now glowing from her chest and expanding through the rest of her skeletal body, her gaze now upon the army of the damned, just as mine was, before launching herself over them and into the sky.

'_But the truest victory, my son… is stirring the hearts of your people…'_

The ghouls and skeletons below turned, gazing at her magnificence as she glided above. Sindragosa rose above them, sending out a chilling roar, imbuing the army below with her strength. The army responded with a war cry as they too became imbued with her strength, their own bodies' now glowing blue with the power of frost.

I smiled my first true smile in over six years as I take in the scene, letting the truest of victories fill me with hope as well.

'_I tell you this… because when my days have come to an end… you shall be King…'_

Preparations have begun. At long last, the Scourge as a faction was no more. Our vigil over the world at large had finally begun. Now and forever, the Army of the Damned has been born.

To Be Continued…

_Post-Chapter Notes: My apologies for taking too long on this fic. I actually have a good excuse as to why it took so long, and here it is: I Procrastinated! =D Hahahah, just kidding. While I actually DID procrastinate a little, it was only by a week, which I took to kind of distance myself from the fic a bit so I could beta it with a fresh mind. Other than that, most of the time spent in creating this chapter was spent adding, cutting, and rewriting. I had a lot of crap that I wanted to get out in this chapter, but I also needed to decide what to put out now and what to leave out for future chapters…_

_Anyway, enough of that, here are my personal thoughts after reading the final cut of this fic: tis a good read, but t'was a bit shorter than what I originally wanted. I actually had a little over 6k words, but between cutting all the crap I didn't really want in it, cutting out parts that I wanted to save for other chapters, making adjustments where I needed them, and compensating for said adjustments in certain areas, I pretty much slimmed it down to around 2.8k. I didn't want too much fluff and empty calories, at least not in this chapter, since all that would do is strain the eyes more than they need to be, plus I wanted to more or less lay more groundwork before we get to the nitty-gritty of the main fic. This one will pretty much be kind of like an alternate universe, some events happened differently in WC3, WC3:TFT, as well as Vanilla WoW and WoW:TBC. The majority of this fic will take place right before patch 3.0 went live, during the SWP portion of TBC. From there, some elements will be kept from WotLK, while others will be touch-&-go/made up on the spot. We'll see what direction I can take this in. _

_One more thing, updates will continue to be sporadic, as real life has me working sporadic hours at work and necessities require me to work overtime so that I can pay bills. Sorry guys, but I can't write if I can't eat! =P_

_Till next, keep reading, keep reviewing, and until next time, I'll be watching you…_


	3. 02: Visions of War

_Pre-Notes: So I have finally come back with a new chapter for AoS. I can easily say it's been a long time coming, as I've been giving the majority of my attention to my other fan fiction, Identity Crisis, so this one has been sitting on the backburner for a while. While I try to divert my attention to both of my works equally, I find it difficult to do so without losing sight of where I want the stories to go, so really, I can only do one at a time. IC has had it's time for now, it's time I diverted to this one for a while._

_And now… on with the show!_

_**Chapter 02: Visions of War**_

As I sat atop the Frozen Throne in quiet meditation, I went over in my mind once more what had been accomplished already and what still needed to be done. Icecrown Citadel now stood in its full glory after a mere six months, the advantage of having workers that required neither food, water, nor rest, their endurance unending, and their will unbreakable. The four ramparts – North, South, East, and West, divided the whole of Icecrown into four different sections, each with its own guard. The metal used was a special blend called Saronite. It had several magical properties that where currently being studied by my necromancers. _'The origin of the ore still eludes us my lord. However, we have several leads that we are currently following. In the meantime, it can only be safely handled by the strong-minded, for while it has no effect on the undead, studies have shown that live beings who mine too much of the stuff start hearing voices in their heads and eventually go insane…'_ was the report that Professor Putricide, the necromancer in charge of Research and Development had told him.

During the construction of the citadel, I started the gauntly task of raising the elite of my army. Death Knights, my brothers in arms and the fist that will keep the Damned in check. I can still remember when I had created the first Legion that was ultimately destined to become my elite force, just moments after I gave life to Sindragosa six months ago…

0-0-0-0

_**~Flashback~**_

_Travelling along the continent of Northrend, I have found the souls and remains of my old Expedition, slaughtered to the last man. I will not lie, when I came upon the camp that I had established with my former men along the Forgotten Shore, I nearly broke down and wept at the sight of their wandering souls. With my powers I restored them to their bodies and created my first legion of Death Knights. At first they seemed distraught over their new existences, but when they saw me, they knew that it was I who had brought them back. _

_It was only when I took my helm off for a brief moment that they saw me for who I truly was._

_The day was dying and night was upon us by this time. I ordered the men to build a great bonfire for light so that I might explain what had happened, that the tale would take some time. I was mildly surprised that they did as I told them. I had expected them to rebel, to try and strike me down for abandoning them._

_After the fire was built I sat down and motioned the men to do so as well. Then, I told them everything. I told them about the origins of the Plague that had taken our homeland. I told them the truth about what had happened with the boats while they were trying to retreat. I told them about finding Frostmourne, and the curse that it inflicted upon me, robbing me of the majority of my humanity, leaving only the smallest of traces. I told them how Muradin, my dear friend, was struck down by an ice shard that had been broken off once I had freed Frostmourne from its prison. I told them how I ventured into the frozen wastes, making my way through Dragonblight up to the Snow Peak Mountains, and from Snow Peak through Icecrown itself. I told them of my fight, of my struggles to maintain my sanity as the voice of the Lich King attempted to drive me mad. I told them how it promised me unlimited power in exchange for the blood of my father and my people, how it would use me to raze the whole of Azeroth to the ground and from its ashes rebuild it as a world of undeath. _

_I then told them how, towards the end of my march, at last, the curse of the blade fully took and the Holy Light abandoned me. I told them how I ascended the Frozen Throne, confronted the monster known as the Lich King, and struck him down using his own blade, rending his soul and feeding it to Frostmourne, injuring myself in the process similar to what had happened with Muradin only days ago. I told them how, while I felt myself dying, I noticed the Scourge begin to run wild, destroying everything. I told them how I came to the realization of the consequences to what I had done. I told them how, to prevent the Scourge from running rampant and destroying the world I had taken the Helm of Domination and made it my crown, becoming the new Lich King. I told them how I was frozen for over six years, only to awaken to a world that had been forever changed. _

_Silence reigned as the men took in everything I had said. Some were looking at me as if I were insane. Others looked to me with admiration, and others yet looked at me in anger. I took a deep breath, expecting the later but not the former._

"_Men," I began, seeing that they were giving me all of their attention. "I now present you with three options. The first, should you show no desire to live this cursed life of undeath, is that I release you from your bonds, so that you may move on. Your body will be cremated to ensure that it would never be used against us or the living, and buried in a cemetery here in Dragonblight further up to the north, away from the tide. The second option is to serve under me once more, and help me in my endeavor as jailors of the damned, to help me ensure that the wave of death stops, and that the undead remain in check, unaggressive towards the living, and eventually, to serve as guardians so that we might ensure that events such as this do not happen again."_

_At this point I got up and dew Frostmourne. I walked towards the bonfire, still going strong, and plunged the blade into the ground before the great blaze. I then backed away from the sword and turned to my men. "The third, and final option, is that you take my sword, Frostmourne, and use it to strike me down. Take your revenge and do with your lives what you will. I only ask that you also take my helm if you do so and continue my work, so that the living might not have to suffer as we have."_

_Silence once again took the camp. I can see the men contemplating their choices and coming to their conclusions. Finally, one of the men stood up and walked towards me. This man I recognized. Captain Falric, my right hand, and head of the Royal Guard who served me in life, now stood before me, eyeing me with a blank look. I stared at him and, for a moment, I thought he would take Frostmourne and strike me down as I had done with Ner'zul years ago._

_Instead, he knelt before, his head cast downward. "Milord," he said. "You will always be my prince. You will always have my loyalty, to the bitter end."_

_As he said this, I noticed two more people walking toward me. Captain Marwyn and Captain Luc, my left hand and my emissary, came up on either side of Falric, and they too knelt before me in fealty. One by one, each of my men came and knelt before their prince, now their king, until there was not one left in the background. I was moved. After so long, after such bitter betrayal, and they still gave me their loyalty, a loyalty I felt I did not deserve. I smiled, true happiness coursing through me for the first time in a very long time._

"_The die has been cast," I said, picking up my runeblade and pointing it toward my men. "Henceforth, we will be the first of our kind. Death Knights whose purpose is not the destruction of this world, but the safety of its inhabitants. Witness now the birth of our new order. Arise, my Knights of the Ebon Blade, take arms, and take heart, for you are now the last line of defense against all who would threaten the living. I imbue upon you a portion of my power, so that you might have the strength needed to persevere through any hardship, any obstacle, and in the end, that you might stand victorious over our enemies. Death to the Scourge! Death to all who threaten our world!"_

_The cheers and cries of my brethren soar into the night. Tonight, the Knights of the Ebon Blade are born…_

0-0-0-0

"Milord," I heard someone speak. I opened my eyes and saw Captain Falric kneeling before me.

"Rise, my friend. What do you have to report?" I asked.

Getting to his feet, he started speaking. "I have news from our insider in Naxxramas, my lord. It seems that word has gotten around that the Burning Legion's attempt to gain a foothold in this world has failed and Kil'Jaden's summoning was disrupted. In the wake of things, Kel'thuzad has decided that it is the perfect time to gather his forces for a mass assault upon the living. They are planning to send in several necropolises to each of the capital cities. Both the Alliance and the Horde are still recovering from the events on the Isle of Quel'danas, it is doubtful they are ready for such an assault."

I sighed as I pondered my options. "It was only a matter of time before Kel'thuzad struck back from his first defeat. Rumor had it that he was slain once already but the imbeciles that did it somehow lost his phylactery…"

I arose. "Very well. Send General Luc to the different clans. We will send the Vrykul to their aid. Have Thassarian and Koltira oversea the operation for the different factions. We will support the living in their endeavors so long as the Scourge remains a powerhouse. Once this is done, send word to the Highlord. He is to gather what allies he has formed for himself and flee Naxxramas. The time for subterfuge is over, Falric. It is time to take on a more active role in the defense of this world."

"At once, milord," said Falric, bowing to me before turning and leaving the Frozen Throne to carry out my will.

I watched as he departed before descending from the throne myself. I made my way through the halls and passageways, making my way towards my personal chambers. After several minutes, I found myself in the Halls of Reflection, the section of the castle which I housed Frostmourne whenever I wanted to rest. I made my way to the altar at the entrance and suspended the blade before it. Making my way back to the Hall's throne room, an exact replica of the throne room of Lordaeron, I channeled necrotic energies into a set of runes scribed onto the wall right under the Lordaeron crest and watched as the wall moved itself to the side, revealing the entrance to my bed chamber. I walked in with a sigh and let the door close behind me. Summoning my caretaker to me, I made my way to my nightstand and removed my helm.

"You summoned me, my lord?" came the voice from behind me.

"How do the mortals fair on the Isle of Quel'danas?" I inquired.

"They have reported success, my lord," she replied. "Kael'thas Sunstrider has been slain, and Kil'jaden pushed back into the Twisting Nether. The Sunwell has been blessed by the Naaru, and is now a fount of Holy energy rather than the arcane powers that composed it originally."

I stood there for a moment, contemplating what she had said. I was already aware of Illidan's demise. To know that the mortals had dealt such a blow to the Burning Legion, however, and without outside help, was simply outstanding. 'Maybe they have no need of our interference after all… maybe it would be best to leave the mortals to their own affairs…' I thought to myself.

"Very well then, Shiva. In that case, I will be turning in for the night. Tomorrow promises to be an eventful day. Make sure I am not disturbed unless absolutely necessary. I expect a wake-up call within eight hours."

"Your will be done, my lord," she replied as she phased through the wall that housed the entrance and exit to my bed chamber and left me alone.

Checking to make sure that the link between my mind and the Helm of Domination was stable, so as to shield myself from outside influence, I stripped myself of my armor before crawling into bed. Though empowered by the necrotic energies of Frostmourne and the Helm, I was still a mortal and still required rest, even if the required amount of sleep I needed was lessened by the rejuvinative properties of my abilities over the life-force coursing through my blood.

'I wonder if I will dream again…' I wondered before I let the weariness take me.

0-0-0-0

_I was flying through the air again. The land below was some kind of marsh or swamp. Crocodiles, spiders, dragonkin, and other such creatures scurried about as I approached my final destination. A port-town of sorts stood at the coast of this swamp, the crest of Lordaeron prominent in showing just who these people were. These where the remnants of my people, survivors of my old kingdom who fled to the west._

'_This must be Kalimdor then…' I thought to myself. I flew through the town twice, admiring the people bustling about and going through their daily lives. The port-town was thriving, ships coming and going at least once every fifteen minutes, quickly dropping off supplies and passengers alike. After the second pass I went through the entrance of the tower situated in the center of the fortified port-town. Making my way to the top of the tower in a series of zigs and zags, I finally saw the object that has drawn me to this place to begin with._

'_Jaina…' I thought to myself. There, in all her glory, stood Jaina Proudmoore, dressed in her full mage regalia, sitting at a table, head bent over a book as she read quietly. 'To be expected,' I noted to myself. 'All she ever wanted in life was to study… and yet here she is, leading what is practically a fort all on her own…'_

_I smiled to myself, continuing to look over her. Longing and desires left unfulfilled coursed through me. It seemed that we were destined to fail as lovers. First because of our different duties, then because of that accursed Scourge invasion and now because I would live on forever, kept alive by the necrotic energies I wielded, while she would slowly age and die. 'Is fate really that cruel, my love? Will we always be destined to continue to exist as we are? To continue to live on alone, for the rest of our days?' I thought, my heart becoming more weary as I continued to brood._

_Suddenly she was jolted out of her seat as the tower trembled around her, the sound of an explosion outside. 'What the…' was all I thought as she picked herself back up and blinked out of the tower. I rushed outside after her, stopping outside of the entrance to the tower, standing next to her and staring at what she and her mages were staring at. A necropolis, suspended outside of the fortified port-town, was bearing down upon the people here, undead ghouls, geists, banshees and gargoyles. Several abominations where seen outside, barely being held back by multiple footmen. The wave of undead seemed endless, fresh corpses being dumped from atop the necropolis to the ground, only to be brought back to life in an unholy display of necrotic power. I saw as Jaina immediately snapped into action, summoning multiple water elementals and hailing down blizzards upon the waves of undead, either freezing them in place or tearing them apart in a flurry of ice. Waves of firebolts and frostbolts were weaved in and out of her area of effect attacks. The mages around her were also supporting the footmen scattered around, throwing powerful pyroblasts and frostlances, freeing up the men to move on to the next enemy. Every enemy they destroyed, however, seemed to be replaced with two more. At this rate, they would be overwhelmed with undead!_

_Suddenly, atop the necropolis a build-up of necrotic shadow energy was visibly building up._

"_Take cover men!" she cried as she blinked out of the way, the mages around here following suit, just as the bolt of necrotic lightning shot forth from the top of the necropolis towards the spot where she was at. I saw where she blinked to, several feet away. The blast had shredded the ground where she was previously standing upon, shrapnel flying everywhere and injuring some of the mages that had stood around her. They stood back up, grim faced as they saw what they were truly up against. This was no common enemy. The Scourge had returned, and they where hell bent on destroying everything…_

0-0-0-0

I woke up with a gasp and quickly sat up in my bed. 'Was that…' I thought as I checked the connection once again between my mind and the Helm of Domination. Finding it intact only confirmed my fears: this had been a true vision, and not a nightmare from the recesses of my mind. Rushing out of bed, I quickly donned on my armor, the Plate of the Damned, and jammed my Helm onto my head.

"SHIVA!" I yelled as I channeled necrotic energies into the entrance of my bedchamber, exiting quickly as it sealed behind me.

"Yes my lord, I am here," she said, quickly floating towards me.

"Quickly, find Amal'thazad the Frozen. Have him take command of the defenses of Icecrown. The Scourge has once again brought their war of conquest upon the living. The mortals are ill prepared to counter this invasion; their forces are still recovering from their war against the Burning Legion. We must act quickly if we are to reinforce the Horde and the Alliance."

"At once, sire," she said, and quickly flew off to carry out the task.

Reaching within, I sought out my Death Knights. _'Death Knights, gather quickly within the first floor of Acherus. Time is of the essence my brethren, be quick. Thassarian, Koltira, this means you two as well!'_ I said, remembering that they were on assignment.

"_We are on our way,"_ came the two replies at once.

Quickly channeling runic power, I created a Death Gate linking it towards the staging area of, perhaps, my greatest of undertakings.

Acherus: The Ebon Hold, a necropolis so big, so powerful, that not even mighty Naxxramas cannot stand a direct assault from it. I made my way down below to the first floor to find most of my Death Knights. I noticed the absence of one of our number, however.

"Where is the Highlord?" I asked Falric, who was standing beside Luc and Marwyn. Just as he was about to answer however, an enormous Death Gate opened. I waited to see who would walk through. My question was answered moments later, but it wasn't a 'who' that walked in, but a 'what'. An enormous abomination walked through, its footstep making a heavy 'thud' as it walked, the size of which I had never seen. "By all that is Holy, what is that…?" I asked myself out loud.

"That, my lord, is Patchwerk," came a voice behind the monstrosity. I looked behind to see the man I was waiting on walking to the right of this creature. Highlord Darion Mograine, raised into undeath by Kel'thuzad after impaling himself on the Corrupted Ashbringer to free the soul of his father Alexandros, was perhaps one of my greater feats. Using my influence over a period of time trying to seek allies within Kel'thuzad's forces, I found young Darion's soul to be most rebellious against his jailors. Using my mental prowess over the undead, I weakened Kel'thuzad's hold over him enough until he was able to quietly break himself free from his influence. Establishing a bond between him and myself, I quickly sent him new instructions. _'If you want to be free, gather what allies you can and lay low. Wait for my signal, and upon receiving it, quietly withdraw to the staging point.'_ By the looks of things, lugging about an abomination that big, 'quiet withdrawal' would be impossible.

"Let me guess… you where found?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at the imposing Patchwerk.

"Found? Bah! Lugging around this beasty of a creature, I would have been surprised if we would have made it out without a single guard noticing our departure!" said a voice I had never heard before coming from the other side of the abomination. As I looked, a most surprising figure turned the corner and came to face me. A human necromancer, from the looks of it, with black ceremonial robes with purple lining and wielding a staff.

"And you are?" I asked, an eyebrow raised at the man.

"Noth the Plaguebringer, at your service your majesty," said the necromancer, bowing before me as he introduced himself.

"He was being held by Kel'thuzad in a similar manner to my own, my liege," said Darion, walking beside him. "When he started questioning the lengths of which he had to go through to achieve the Scourge's ends, the Arch Lich used his frost magic to freeze his heart in his chest so that he would feel no remorse for his actions. When I found out, I used my own mastery of Frost to undo the damage done. He now fights alongside us, my liege."

"I see…" I said, my eyes moving to the giant abomination. "And what of this… Patchwerk?" I asked.

"PATCHWERK NO WANT HURT NO MORE! PATCHWERK ONLY WANT PROTECT AND PLAY!" it suddenly bellowed, my stomach rising to my mouth at the unexpected outburst from the big lug. Whatever I was expecting… it was _not _that…

I composed myself quickly. Clearing my throat I looked up at him. "Very well then Noth, Patchwerk. I bid thee welcome to my sanctum. You now stand within mighty Acherus: The Ebon Hold. This is to be the headquarters of the Knights of the Ebon Blade, the faction of Death Knights under my command. Our purpose is simple: we protect the living from outside threats, be they demonic in origin or undead in nature."

I paused briefly, my mind quickly going back to the lessons that father had given me as a child whilst teaching me the fundamentals of our kingdom's economic system. _"No man is expected to offer his services for free, my child. Proper compensation is always due to those that show they deserve it. Pay them accordingly, and you'll have won yourself not just the services a man may provide, but you will have sown the seeds of loyalty within their hearts. Carefully nurtured, this seed can sprout into a devout following the likes of which cannot be matched."_

Taking this thought into consideration, I drew Frostmourne from my side and pointed the sword towards the three. "The three of you have done me a great service on this day. Darion Mograine, you freed yourself with my help and in return you willingly pledged yourself and the Ashbringer to me, becoming the most powerful Death Knight under my command, so that we might see the end of Kel'thuzad and see Naxxramas fall. Patchwerk, you tire of needless destruction and now pledge yourself to me so that you might have the chance to protect those around you instead. Noth the Plaguebringer, you were forced to commit atrocities in the name of the Scourge without remorse, and now you seek penance for your actions by committing your services to our cause. While you three are here for your own reasons, I cannot expect you three to serve under me without receiving compensation for your actions."

I started gathering necrotic energy through my blade until it was brimming with power. Then, in a crackling flash, black lightning started channeling from Frostmourne into the bodies of the three before me. All three of them lifted up into the air slightly and Frostmourne empowered their souls with runic power. The whole thing must have lasted about fifteen seconds at the most before I cut the flow of power, letting it recede. Darion, Patchwerk, and Noth both made it back to the ground slowly, power now coursing through their bodies, their faces in silent shock at the feel of the energy now churning within them.

"I offer you this boon as a token of my gratitude. Know that I am forever grateful for your services," I told them.

"THANK YOU MR. LICH KING!" bellowed Patchwerk, a happy grin plastered on his face. Besides him, Noth merely bowed, communicating his gratitude in happy silence.

I turned my gaze upon Darion, who still sported a stupefied look on his face. "Darion," I said, grabbing his attention, his gaze now upon me. "While you have been informally brought into our ranks, it is now time to make your membership official. Kneel before me."

He got on one knee and bowed before me. I took Frostmourne and let its tip rest on his right shoulder by the flat of my blade. "Darion Mograine, you have shown excellent judgment in the face of certain peril, moral fiber beyond imagining, and a desire to protect the innocent. Your leadership skills were highly commended, both during your living years, and your time shackled in undeath. Due to this, I hereby find thee worthy of one final boon."

I took the blade of his right shoulder and moved it to his left. "Henceforth, I hereby name thee Highlord Darion Mograine, leader of the Knights of the Ebon Blade. May you carry this new station with dignity and responsibility."

I withdrew my blade and faced the masses of knights. "All hail the Highlord!"

"ALL HAIL THE HIGHLORD!" chanted the crowd. Two more times they repeated this, pumping their right fists into the air as they did so.

"I humbly thank you, my lord. I will not let you down," he replied.

"Then arise, Highlord, and command your men," I said.

He rose to his feet and turned to face the rest of the knights, the large group giving him their undivided attention. "My fellow Knights, we have received word that the mortal world is currently under siege. The Scourge has launched an all-out offensive, sending a necropolis to each major city in Azeroth. While some of the more fortified cities might be able to last longer than the others, it is only a matter of time before the undead overwhelm them. The first wave of relief has been sent already. Even as we speak, the Vrykul and Val'kyr have been dispatched to the shores of Kalimdor and the Eastern Kingdoms to secure the coastlines, however that will take time. It will be our job to port outside of the cities via Death Gate and offer our live brethren immediate relief and assistance in pushing the undead back. I will then assign an officer to go to each major city and offer the service of our Death Knights until they have recovered enough of their resources and had a chance to regroup. Remember, they just achieved a massive victory on the Isle of Quel'danas against the Burning Legion. While their spirits might be high, their mortal bodies will be weary. We will be their rock, we will offer them the support they need until they can join the fight once again, and together we will achieve victory over our enemy! We will be leaving in fifteen minutes. Ready yourselves men, for the War of the Damned has just begun!"

Their cheers rang within my helm, their spirits bolstered by the words of their new leader. At that moment, I knew I had done the right thing in choosing the bearer of the Ashbringer to lead my Knights. He would lead them through this war, so that the living might stand a chance of survival against the onslaught of death that awaits them. I nodded towards him in approval, then turned and walked away, using the transporter to warp back to the main level. I walked to the balcony, letting the breeze cool my face through the front of my helm. I closed my eyes and let my vision wander. 'Theramore,' I thought to myself. From what I could see, the fortified city-port was holding its own, but they had lost about a quarter of their forces, and their men were tiring quickly, and there was no end to the waves of undead. I was Jaina and her mages struggling to keep up, the battle wearing them down and taxing their endurance. "Hold strong men! We haven't lost this battle yet!" I heard her cry, trying to bolster the moral of her men.

I opened my eyes. 'Jaina… hold on just a little longer, my love. Help is on the way…'

To Be Continued…

_Author's Notes: Hot damn, this took a while! I actually scrapped this chapter about 2 different times before I came up with this one. It's been by far the most difficult piece of work I've written to date, just because of the direction that I want to take it. I originally intended to have the Scourge vs. the Burning Legion, but then decided that it would be pointless as many of the Scourge are innately evil. So now I'm trying some different things and have a rough idea of where I want this to go now. _

_I struggled to throw some humor in there as well, otherwise the whole thing would have come out just a bit too emo for my tastes, and while writing angst and fluffy is all well and good with me, it's just a wee bit too early to delve too heavily into that. The prologue and the first chapter was teeming with it already, too much would be enough to overdose the fic and make it bland. I was wracking my mind when it hit me: I gigantic, lovable abomination with a heart the size of Texas. While this will be a mostly dark tale, the antics that Patchwerk will be getting up to will have many a person chuckling as they read along, though he will have his serious moments._

_Next chapter will have the PoV going all over the place, from Theramore to Stormwind to Orgrimmar to Darnassus. Stay tuned, things are about to really heat up._

_That's it for now. Keep reading, keep reviewing, and until next time, I'll be watching you…_


	4. 03: The Defense of Theramore

_Pre-Notes_: That's right, you can blink. It's not a hallucination fabricated by a figment of your imagination. This is a real update. The Scourge Invasion has begun! Let us see how our heroes hold up…

_**Chapter 03: The Defense of Theramore**_

An enormous explosion rang throughout Theramore Isle, the city-port having been under siege now for an hour. Bodies laid scattered about, both human and undead, as blasts of necrotic energy kept being volleyed into the town. Jaina and her mages had been casting non-stop the whole time, doing their best to stem the tide of undead as the monstrosities kept marching onward. Much to her horror, many of her fallen soldiers were amongst the tide of living dead, marching on to slaughter and devour their former comrades and allies.

'This is not good…' she thought as she slumped onto one knee, utterly exhausted. 'We've got nothing but unfriendly waters to our backs. Unless we get reinforcements soon, we'll all perish here!'

She quickly downed a skin of water to sooth her parched throat and resumed casting, sending frostbolts and firebolts out to freeze and incinerate the undead.

"INCOMING GARGOYLES!" shouted a soldier from the top of the tower. The archers on the walls and on the tower started firing upon the flying monstrosities but the arrows had little effect on their stone-like skin. The soldiers in the towers where struck first. The gargoyles swarmed in on them, grabbing them on the shoulders with clawed feet and launching them off the tower towards their deaths. Soon, the soldiers on the walls had to abandon their position lest they meet a similar end.

Five more minutes into the battle, the ground started shaking. Jaina looked to the sky, where the necropolis was floating. However, she didn't see it charging another charge of necrotic lightning. She looked back down and, for a minute, could not believe her eyes. The outer wall was being overtaken by a massive swarm of undead! Ghouls, creepers, banshee's, zombies, and abominations where all charging the wall like a locust swarm!

"FALL BACK!" she shouted to the remaining men. "FALL BACK TO THE DOCKS!"

She turned and blinked towards the docks, taking as many of her men and soldiers with her as she could while the rest started running for their lives.

0-0-0-0

"My lord, the gates are ready."

"Good… Theramore is getting hit the hardest right now, send in the initial wave of reinforcements there first."

"As you wish."

0-0-0-0

They were still loading civilians into the ships by the time the undead reached the docks.

"My lady, we're not going to make it," said Captain Garran Vimes, Jaina's highest ranking officer. "At the rate the undead are marching it will be a matter of time before we are over-run. We're going to have to let the ships go now if we want any chance of saving what civilians are already onboard."

"That is not an option, Captain. We need to hold the line until the rest of the civilians can board the boats. I refuse to leave anyone behind!" exclaimed Jaina, eyeing the wave of undead as they marched steadily through the city and towards the docks. What was left of the footmen where lined up right on the edge of the dock's entrance, ready to buy the civilians more time. Jaina knew that it would only be a matter of time before they were overrun once again. "May the Light have mercy on us…" she mumbled. Then, she hardened her features and, in a commanding voice, addressed the troops. "Ready yourselves, men! The undead are nearly upon us!"

The waves of tension could be felt in the air as the undead army grew closer and closer.

"Steady!" she cried out once more as she saw the line of footmen shuffle uncomfortably. The situation was starting to get the better of them. Murmuring and whimpering started floating from the line as the undead broke bow distance. "Steady!" she cried once again as they marched closer and closer.

'Light… please give us a miracle…' she thought to herself as she summoned her water elemental and prepared to start casting firebolts and frostbolts once again.

Suddenly, right between the line and the undead, a massive shadow apparition appeared and took the shape of a gate of some kind. 'Oh great, the undead where summoning even _more_ reinforcements!' she thought. What appeared through the gate, though, sent shivers of horror down her spine and made her lungs compress, making breathing hard.

An abomination, the likes of which she had never seen before, walked out of the giant gateway. The undead started hollering and clamoring, as if cheering at the site of it! It was enormous! 'Dear Light… we're all dead…' she thought, tears starting to fall from her eyes.

Then, the unexpected happened.

Rather than facing and slaughtering the soldiers, it turned towards the undead. The massive army stopped for a moment, staring at the gigantic abomination for a moment.

The abomination drew back and yelled out "PLAAAAAYTIME!"

Then, it threw multiple hook-ended chains into the wave of undead, pulled several of the monsters towards it, and destroyed them in one fell swoop.

"PATCHWERK PLAY!" it cried as it started running into the group of undead! The monsters cried out in what must have been surprise as the giant abomination barreled into the mass of undead minions, crushing everything in its path.

Suddenly, the sounds of multiple horns came. The sound broke Jaina's stupefied look and her gaze was drawn once again to the giant gateway. The sight was not pretty. Knights of some kind where pouring out of it now on steeds that reeked of necrotic energies, each wearing plate armor made of some kind of unidentifiable metal. The knight at the head of the group drew his broadsword and held it high in the air, runes glowing and promising much pain to those pitiful enough to be caught in its path.

"To arms, my brothers! Let us remind these Scourge scum who their _true_ master is! Grind them to dust! Charge!" he cried and, with a furious roar of approval, the knights charged into the mass of undead monsters.

Within moments, the tide of battle turned. Jaina witnessed as the unholy knights wielded necrotic energies against the very monsters that used it against them. Death Coils where being flung around like they were candy. Necrotic blight and gales of frost were being unleashed by the dozens, and fresh blood ran through the streets as the Death Knights pushed the undead back until, through some unspoken order, the undead began to retreat.

"We've got them on the run!" cried out the leader of this new army. The knights all cheered as they chased the undead out of the city. At the gates, the floating necropolis started to charge its store of necrotic power in preparation to shoot down black lightning onto the retaliating army. The leader of the army dismounted his skeletal-like mount and walked to the front of the army, staring up at the necropolis. He drew his sword and waited. Finally, the energy reached a crescendo and the necropolis fired.

The necrotic lightning streaked towards the man, who now held his sword high in the air. Rather than strike him down, however, the energy struck the sword and started feeding it runic power. After several seconds, the attack seized, and the Death Knight took a stance. With a mighty battle cry, he swung his two-handed sword towards the floating necropolis and sent a concentrated wave of necrotic power towards it. The impact was deafening, and for a moment, the world turned white.

0-0-0-0

I grinned as I watched the finale of the fight. Mograine made me proud on this day. The power of the Ashbringer thrives once more.

0-0-0-0

Jaina picked herself up off the ground, having stumbles upon impact and started looking around in disbelief at the devastation. The sky was raining ash, remnants of the necropolis that had previously taken position outside of the city. The enemy forces had been completely obliterated, leaving nothing of the opposition but ash and brimstone. All around her the unholy knights where cheering in victory, their eerie voices piercing the air in droves.

"Raise the ghouls!" commanded the Knight that had lead the charge, his voice piercing through the shrieks and war cries of victory. "We're not out of this yet. Set up a perimeter around this entire port-town! I want gargoyles patrolling the skies, banshees in the swamps, skeletons in the water, and abominations at the gates! Secure this town before we move on to Darnassus!"

"Excuse me, sir," Jaina said, walking up to him. "Not to sound unappreciative, but might I inquire just who you are and why you decided to save our town?"

The Knight turned and faced her. His glowing eyes shone an ethereal blue, not unlike the eyes of the Night Elves, but with a much more… unnatural feel to them.

"I am Darion Mograine, Highlord of the Knights of the Ebon Blade. We are here on orders of our Lord, the Lich King, ruler of the frozen north. The undead that just attempted to overrun you is part of a group you known as the Scourge. They seek to capitalize on the weakened defenses of the Horde and the Alliance in the aftermath of the Burning Legion's ill-attempted takeover of Azeroth. Ill prepared as the mortal world is for such an invasion, our Lord has commanded us to provide you and your allies with reinforcements until such a time as your defenses can stand up to an all-out Scourge attack like the one you just witnessed."

"I see…" said Jaina. "Your name… it is familiar to me…"

Mograine looked away for a moment, and stared off into the depths of the marsh. "You may have heard of my father, Alexandros Mograine. He was a Paladin of the Silver Hand, and wielder of the legendary sword, Ashbringer. It is his sword I wield, though you will find that it is no longer a weapon of light."

Shock seized her at this revelation. Even she had heard of the legendary Ashbringer, the weapon that was rumored to be able to render an entire legion of undead to ash in a single swing. Apparently, there was more truth to the rumor than she realized.

Clearing her throat for a moment, she responded. "Be that as it may, you have my thanks, Highlord Mograine, as well as the thanks of my people. Where it not for you, Theramore would have surely fallen on this day."

"It is not I that you should thank, milady, but our Lord, the Lich King, for it was on his orders that we are here to begin with. I will be leaving you with four of my Death Knights to oversee the safeguarding your town against the undead. The rest of my forces, I'm afraid, must be withdrawn. Your port city is not the only area being targeted for Scourge invasion."

"Who else has been targeted?" inquired Jaina, a worried expression on her face.

"Both the Horde and the Alliance have been facing undead incursions in every major city and the Scourge has awakened sleeper agents in key locations. Rest assured, milady, that the Knights of the Ebon Blade are doing everything within our considerable power to thwart their attacks and are readying to fight back. Excuse me a moment - PATCHWERK! THOSE ARE CORPSES, NOT DOLLS! STOP FOOLING AROUND WITH THEM AND START HELPING THE TOWNSFOLK BURN THE DEAD BEFORE THEY RISE!"

"SORRY!" came the somewhat subdued reply of the gigantic abomination. Jaina stared on as Patchwerk dropped the leaper corpse it was playing with and started helping the townsfolk drag the fallen soldiers out of the city and into the mass graves they were digging outside in the marsh, getting ready to incinerate the corpses.

Mograine sighed. "I will never understand how such a fearsome creature can have the mentality of a five year old child."

"I find it refreshing. It is the first time I've ever seen or heard an undead creature behave in such a child-like manner – morbid though his actions may be," said Jaina, staring at the creature with wide eyes.

0-0-0-0

Two hours later, a blaze was rising towards the sky as the mass graves where lit aflame, the fires growing hot quite fast. The remaining mages surrounded the fires keeping them under control so as not to allow them to spread. By the time they would finish, nothing would be left of the dead but ash. The Knights of the Ebon Blade had withdrawn the moment the bonfire was started, leaving Jaina and what was left of her mages with the task of keeping the fires hot enough to incinerate all that lay within.

"Milady", Captain Vimes started, walking up to her. "The final tally has come in. We've lost just over seventy percent of our forces to the last battle. I'm afraid that without reinforcements from Stormwind, we'll be unable to recoup our numbers enough to be able to secure the town."

"There is another option," spoke an ethereal voice to their left. A Death Knight, one of the four left behind to lend aid stood before them. Wearing the standard Death Knight armor with two wicked looking double-edged runeswords strapped to his back, he introduced himself. "I am Thassarian, a captain of the Ebon Blade. I am the one in charge of our small company here in this town."

"What do you propose then, Captain Thassarian?" asked Jaina.

"I can't help but notice a rather large graveyard off to the side. From what I have been able to sense, though many of the bodies that once lay in there now burn in the pyre, I can still sense roughly about a quarter of the graves still occupied. If I can commune with them, I may be able to convince some of them to take up arms once again and help secure this town until outside reinforcements arrive. Their aid would prove most advantageous, as they would require neither food nor sleep to function, and can act as round-the-clock sentries and guards without needing to be relieved. It would also allow our ghouls to patrol the waters along with the skeletons, rather than have them sticking out like sore thumbs in the middle of the road leading into your city," explained the Death Knight captain.

Jaina frowned in distaste, but considered the option anyway. From a tactical and logistical standpoint, it solved many problems. Many of the soldiers buried in that graveyard gave their lives for their family and the safety of their town. It would not take much convincing to attain their aid in securing the town, lest all they sacrificed be for naught. On the other hand, the use of necromancy left a bad taste in her mouth. After everything she experienced in the Third War at the hands of the Cult of the Damned and then later with the Scourge itself, the use of such unnatural magicks practically screamed at her conscience.

In the end, however, with the weight of her people's safety hanging in the balance, she gave in to practicality. "Very well Captain Thassarian. You have my permission to begin, _only_ on the condition that the souls you raise through your black arts are put to rest once we get enough reinforcements to successfully man the defenses of this harbor-town without their aid."

"We are agreed, milady," Thassarian said, bowing in respect to her. "In that case, I will gather the rest of my men and begin preparations for the ritual immediately. While we prepare, our ghouls will be making sweeps in the surrounding swamps looking for any lingering undead. Rest assured, we're doing everything within our considerable power to make sure you do not suffer another assault like the one you were forced to endure earlier today."

"Thank you, Captain. Your help has been invaluable. Theramore is in your debt," said Jaina, bowing back.

"No thanks needed, I assure you. Now, by your leave, milady," said Thassarian. He saluted them both and walked off, barking orders towards the other three Death Knights. They then walked off towards their campsite to retrieve whatever reagents they would need to commence with the ritual.

Captain Vimes let out a long sigh. "I don't like this, Lady Jaina. I don't like this at all."

Jaina nodded. "I completely agree, Captain. However, with how few our numbers are, our only other options would be to abandon Theramore or stand our ground and remain vulnerable for an unforeseeable amount of time. Remember what Highlord Mograine said, we were not the only ones hit. Stormwind, Ironforge, Darnassus, and the Exodar are all under siege as well. It may be many weeks before they can spare enough of their forces to lend aid, and due to the threat the Scourge pose on this land, I am very hesitant to reach out to the smaller settlements to the north."

Jaina then looked him dead in the eyes. "I hate to admit this, but it seems that for now, we are on our own."

0-0-0-0 _Eight Hours Later_ 0-0-0-0

I felt the ripple of the Death Gate's magic before I saw it open. I stepped away from the scrying orb that stood on the pedestal within the situation room and stepped down towards the central table. I sat down as the Highlord of my forces stepped through.

"Report, Highlord," I said. "How fair the defenses?"

"As well as can be expected, milord," replied Mograine. "Stormwind, Ironforge, Orgrimmar, Silvermoon, and the Undercity were easy enough to defend. We had some trouble, however, with Thunder Bluff, Darnassus, and the Exodar, as those cities are much more exposed and much more vulnerable to attack. All the same, though, we were successful, only losing 30 of our number between the eight cities. It seems of all the attacks, Theramore was the one hit hardest. I have already spoken to King Varian about the situation over there. He will be sending reinforcements to them within three days time" he explained.

Ah, triumph. How I love the feel of it. "Excellent, Highlord. I am most pleased with our progress. Soon, it will be time to move onto Naxxramas itself. First, however, we must deal with one more situation. As you know, sleeper agents have been awoken within several places of power. I need Knights to infiltrate the Shadowfang Keep proper, the graveyard of the Scarlet Monastery, the depths of Razorfen Down, the ruins of Dire Maul, the entrance hall of the Scholomance, and within the tower of Karazhan. They are to find the Scourge agents that lie within and free them of their binds. They will prove to be most useful allies in preparation to the final confrontation from Kel'thuzad. If they refuse to be freed, then destroy them and move on. This must be accomplished as quickly as possible. I sense that we do not have a lot of time before the Arch Lich makes his next move."

"At once, sire," replied Mograine, understanding his orders. Nodding, I dismiss him. Just as he was about to step through the newly created Death Gate though, I called out to him, "Keep me informed of your progress, especially when concerning one Tenris Mirkblood. Of all the sleepers, he is the most powerful of their number, and the only Darkfallen vulnerable enough as of right now to claim for our cause."

"As you will, milord," responded Mograine. Saluting once, he stepped through, and was gone.

I let out a weary sigh. The defense of the world of Azeroth has been a success so far, but it was only a matter of time until I would have to involve myself personally. While my power was considerable enough where Kel'thuzad was the only creature within the Scourge army who could possibly match me in raw power, if I were honest with myself, I would admit that it was not the future confrontation with the Arch Lich that worried me.

No, it was confronting my former allies. It was confronting my former mentor. It was confronting my father.

It was confronting _her_.

I stood up suddenly and walked over to the scrying orb. Exerting my will over it, an image of her appears on it. She is giving instructions to Captain Vimes and Captain Thassarian, coordinating the defenses of her town with their newly acquired undead guards, shades, and banshees. 'Good. They are no longer vulnerable to attack with those guards.'

He zoomed in on her face. It was slightly different than he remembered. There were now strands of white in her blonde hair, probably from stress. There were also a couple of wrinkles there that he did not remember her sporting. 'Time has been generous with you my dear, but the world around you weighs down on your soul.'

He reached up and caressed the orb where her cheek would have been.

'Soon, my love…

'Soon…'

0-0-0-0

"It was fortuitous that your ghouls discovered the local shade infestation. I have absolutely no idea how the Scourge missed them," said Jaina, impressed that they had been able to amass more than what was originally anticipated. Using the corpses of their fallen comrades was one thing, but shades she could deal with easier. There were no graves to disturb when it came to shades. They simply moved on to the void when they were released. The same concept applied to banshees, as they did not have a body to deal with once it was time to release them.

Herself, Captain Vimes and the four Death Knights where in the situation room inside the partially standing barracks. The main building still stood, but the connecting towers had all crumbled to the Scourge assault. Jaina was at the head of the table, Captain Vimes to her left, Thassarian to her right, and the other three Knights spread out.

"The Scourge brought their own army of undead with them and had access to your own graveyard to use against you. To them, having to tame the local undead and boost their power to suit their needs would have been wasted effort when they had access to a ready supply of corpses and potential candidates in your own casualties," replied the only female Death Knight in the group.

"Neptunium is correct, milady," affirmed Thassarian. "While the local shades and banshees haunting the swamps are numerous, compared to the strength of both your own forces and the considerable might of the Scourge fodder, they had little need to acquire these spirits into their ranks. However, just because they are not as strong as the Scourge forces by no means signify they are useless. With some work on our part, we can enhance their strength to be comparable to our own ghouls, as well as increase their stealth and mental capabilities and use them for reconnaissance as scouts patrolling the swamps for any Scourge activity."

"I can see how that would be to our advantage," spoke up Captain Vimes. "The undead guards have taken their place on the walls, at the gates, and the perimeter. The ghouls and skeletons raised have been spread at the bottom of the sea looking out for any Scourge movement underwater. The gargoyles are patrolling the skies. Now, with these spirits patrolling the roads and the swamps, and not to mention the fact that we don't have to worry about relieving them or having them work in shifts, I find that our logistical needs have been cut by half. Combined with the surviving guard we now have enough guards to thankfully secure the town."

"Thank the gods," whispered Jaina.

"Indeed," replied Captain Vimes. "I believe it would be best if we continued to man the walls and the perimeter with the undead guards and leave the living guards to patrol the city proper. I believe it would make the civilian population feel more at ease if the undead were not walking up and down the streets, even if they were there to keep them safe."

"Agreed," said Thassarian. "The guard will remain on the walls, the skeletons and ghouls in the water, the gargoyles in the air, and the spirits in the swamps. If there is to be a second attempt at this town by the Scourge, we will know well in advance with plenty of time to counteract."

"Then we can all rest much easier tonight knowing that, for the time being at least, we will be safe in our homes," said Jaina, relief apparent in her weary voice.

Thassarian nodded. "I must go make my report to the Highlord. Neptunium, you're in charge of the undead for now. I will return within the hour."

"Very well, captain," said Neptunium.

As Thassarian departed the room to open up a Death Gate to go make his report, Jaina slumped into her seat and rubbed her eyes. The battle and subsequent aftermath had severely taxed her in a way she hadn't felt since she first landed on Kalimdor. She spoke up, saying "I believe I will turn in for the night. It has been a long day, and I need rest to recover from the non-stop casting.

"Very well, milady. I'll see to the guards then, make sure that they know of the situation," said Captain Vimes.

"And I will go to the shades and relay to them their instructions before they start growing restless," said Neptunium, standing up.

Jaina nodded, and, after sipping on some water, she teleported herself into her room.

'At last, some peace,' she thought, tossing her staff over in the direction of her love seat and started taking her clothes off in preparation for a nice long hot bath. Passing her nightstand, she paused at a picture framed and sitting on her bed.

The handsome face of young Arthas Menethil stared back at her. Clad in his Truesilver armor and leaning on Light's Vengeance, his massive two-handed war hammer, he was smiling a mischievous smile, almost like at the time the small mural was made, he had some kind of secret that he was purposefully hiding.

She picked up the framed picture and caressed it lovingly. 'My love… what would you have done in my place…'

She kissed the frame and hugged it to herself as she reminisced, remembering the times that Arthas would sneak into Dalaran and make her way to her private chambers, the passionate nights they had spent together while she was a student there.

"Please, my love…" she whispered. "Please, be alive… please, be safe…"

She put the mural back onto her nightstand and made her way to her bathroom and subsequently to her bathing area. 'I will have to go to Stormwind. Varian will likely be planning some kind of counterattack against the Scourge. Naxxramas would probably be the target of the attack.'

She conjured water into the large tub and using her Scorch ability, she heated the water before she finished taking the remainder of her clothes off and slid into the tub.

As she slumped down in the water and allowed her body to relax, one thought ran through her mind.

"Soon, my love…"

"Soon…"

To Be Continued…

_Author's Note: And so concludes version 22.b of chapter 3. That's right. You read correctly. Version 22.b. That means I deleted this chapter 21 different times before liking attempt number 22 enough that, once I finished, I copied it and made a second copy which I then refined even more to my liking. _

_Two things made this chapter challenging for me. The first, obviously, was the battle itself. As I have stated numerous times, I find that describing battles and complicated fights are actually one of my biggest flaws, and because of this I'm forced to find ways around that, usually through the use of a different focus while the battle itself is going on so you readers don't notice my noobishness too much. In this particular instance, I tried to focus on reaction and emotion rather than the action taking place, so hopefully, I succeeded in that part. The second reason was because I was unsure of exactly how I wanted the initial contact between Jaina and the Ebon Blade to go. I was of many different minds, from no contact at all to immediate disclosure. Eventually, I decided on a happy medium and this is what I came up with._

_Yes, Patchwerk is playing comic relief while still being a bad ass._

_So yeah, that combined with recent time restraints due to work have culminated to me having to tone down the amount of time I spend sitting down in front of a computer. I've barely had time to enjoy any of my MMO's. If I wanna read a fanfic, I gotta do it on my phone while I got 5 min to spare at work. It's been that busy for me._

_Not sure when I will be updating this again. The next time I sit down to work on fiction, I'm gonna be doing so with my other story, Identity Crisis. I've neglected that one for far too long. I wanna get in at least 2 chapters for that fic before returning to this one. _

_So, that being said, I hope you've enjoyed this chapter! Keep reading, keep reviewing, and until next time, I'll be watching you…_


	5. 04: The Invasion of Stratholme

_Pre-Notes:_ _**BOOBS! ** Now that I have your attention, hello from the great beyond! It's certainly been a while since I've updated this, and the reasons this time are actually legit! I've been fighting with mental health problems over the last 6 months. I've had to institutionalize myself twice between January and June, and I've been dealing with a lot of family drama on top of that as well. Believe me, it's not just AoS that's suffered from this, my writing in general pretty much stopped cold while all of this was going on. But I'm starting to get better now, and I'm trying to catch up on all of the writing I should have been doing._

_I know I'm not the most frequent updater, but I try my best with what I have to work with, and I've made it known in the past how I feel about rushing chapters. I'm going through some really tough times right now. A lot of family problems have reared their ugly heads and myself and my whole family have been dealing with the consequences of those problems, and that's on top of all of my health problems, making any progress I try to make go at a snail's pace. I try my best to work on things as best as I can, but until everything resolves itself, expect updates to be slow and far apart. Hopefully, once things start to get better, I will be able to dedicate more time to making new content and updating my stories more frequently. It will probably be another few months before you see another chapter._

_Enough babbling, though. Onto the new stuff!_

_**Chapter 04: The Invasion of Stratholme**_

I have spent the weeks scrying over the progress of my troops. While satisfied, I was disappointed to know that I was unable to garner the loyalty of the sleeper agents within the locations of power in Azeroth. Mograine was doing an excellent job as Highlord of the Ebon Blade, and it made me proud to see his progression. He was becoming more powerful as time went on and his experience in leadership accumulated. Soon, they would be ready to move upon Naxxramas itself. The only thing they needed now was to claim a central base in the Eastern Kingdoms to operate from. While the Ebon Hold was an excellent base of operations, it would serve them better as a satellite base, mobile and able to be moved on command. It would be a waste of its potential to make it leave it a stationary base.

Looking at the current location of Naxxramas, I could see that it was stationed in the Eastern Plaguelands towards the north. The closest strategic location to use as a base would be Stratholme. That meant a battle would have to be planned out to rip it from the control of the Scourge and claim it for the Ebon Blade.

Stratholme. The very name of the city brought back horrific memories of my past. The sins I committed against humanity in the name of the Light. I can see now why the Light left me as I ascended the Frozen Throne. I had allowed myself to be blinded by my rage and I paid the consequences for my actions. The purge claimed the lives of hundreds of innocent people, my first true act of disgrace in my pursuit of vengeance. What a fool I had been. The actions of a zealot. I might as well have been a paladin for the Scarlet Crusade and have been done with it.

I shook my head clear of those thoughts. 'Now is not the time to be indulging in memories of the past,' I thought to myself. 'I have a battle to plan and instructions I must give to the Highlord. This is a battle that I myself might have to participate in. Kel'thuzad will not let this city go lightly, and he might make a personal appearance if we force his hand.'

With this in mind, I summoned Shiva, my personal attendant, to deliver a message to the Highlord. We have much to prepare for in the weeks to come.

0-0-0-0

-One Week Later-

My armies had worked its way through the surrounding lands. Scholomance proved to be little challenge. The headmaster folded easily once I made a personal appearance and surrendered himself and his entire family over to me and mine. They now work for us and their school has proved useful as a pivotal rally point for our troops. The corpses and monstrosities within made for an excellent addition to our armies once imbued with a little bit of my power. Headmaster Gandling, now freed from Kel'Thuzad's growing influence, has been more than generous in purging those within his house who remained loyal to the treacherous Arch Frost Lich. In the end, only he and Jandice Barov, last of the Barov family, remained. Rattlegore was killed and then reanimated to be aggressive against any who were loyal to Kel'Thuzad and his ilk.

From there, it was rather straight forward. A march through the Western Plaguelands reclaimed the farms, the cauldrons seized by Noth the Plaguebringer for our use. He has recently perfected a special 'brew' as he calls it, a potion that would not just heal my death knights, but reinvigorate them with runic energy. As we encroached into the Eastern Plaguelands, we seized the towers surrounding the Plaguewood. We did our best to avoid Light's Hope Chapel, as our quarrel was not with the Argent Dawn. We wanted as little involvement with them as possible for now to avoid complications in our altercation with the Scourge.

Now, I find myself at the Northpass Tower, along with ten of my knights, chosen from the ranks by Thassarian, waiting for me to begin my briefing. We are standing around a round table, a map of the Plaguelands lying before us.

"Beyond the Plaguewood lays a city that haunts my dreams even now, six years after its purging," I began. "By some strange twist of fate, it is through another purging that we cleanse it of the evil of the Scourge and claim it for our own. We will start the purging with two small groups of five. Group Alpha will go through the main entrance. Once inside, you will work your way through the undead holding the West Side of Stratholme to where the encroached Scarlet Crusaders are barricaded. Offer them the chance to either join us, or escape. Should they attack you at all, consider it an act of war against the Ebon Blade and eliminate them. Your main target is the dread lord Balnazzar, who is masquerading as a human and leader of the sect of isolated Crusaders. He is to be eliminated with extreme prejudice. Once he is dead, begin to raise whatever undead you have slain and divide them into two groups. One will stay behind to secure the city of our use. Have the second half group up at the entrance. Once given the signal from Team Beta, you will begin a rear assault on the enemy forces within Plaguewood. Use your added numbers to your advantage. We will need to secure the two citadels to the rear of the Plaguewood and the Plaguewood Tower. Once you have achieved these three objectives, you will station guards at each of the sites and begin pushing the Scourge towards our forward forces.

"Group Beta will go in through the Servants Entrance into the East Side of Stratholme, where the undead has taken a firm hold. From my understanding, the Death Knight Aurius Rivendare has taken two Argent Dawn prisoners, and now holds them within the Slaughterhouse located at the rear of the city. Your objective is to make your way there, killing whatever undead you find, and slay Rivendare. Once he is dead, send a wave of Death Coils into the air to signal Team Alpha and Team Charlie to begin the attack. Afterwards, make your way back to the servant's entrance, raising the dead as you go and leaving them to secure your side of the city, and join up with Team Charlie for the forward advance.

"Team Charlie will be led by Highlord Mograine and myself. We will have our attack force secure the entrance to the servant's quarters of Stratholme. Once the signal is given, an assigned guard will stay at the entrance to maintain the rear access point under our control while the rest of the attack force advances. I will watch on from above on Acherus. Should Kel'Thuzad become personally involved in the battle, I will step in and deal with him personally. Once the two groups meet in the middle of the Plaguewood, we will have our troops perform a sweep of the entire forest for any surviving enemy undead and secure the perimeter with skeleton warriors and gargoyle sentries to ensure a secure border before withdrawing into the city. Once the grounds are secure, we will commence reconstruction and rebuild the city into a proper base to work out of. Once we are successful in this endeavor we will plan out our next incursion into Kalimdor. Should you have any questions, please see Thassarian and Koltira for further details and clarification. Make whatever preparations you need to make, we march in exactly three hours. You are dismissed."

As my Death Knights left the room I turned my back to the door and towards a crystal ball sitting on a table at the very rear of the room. I put my hand over it, and the fog within splits to show the small but powerful Argent Dawn force at Light's Hope Chapel. Once the fighting began, word would definitely reach them that something major was going on outside of Stratholme and they would more than likely send someone to investigate. 'It would be within my best interests if I make a contingency plan should they send a scouting party, it would not do well for them to get the wrong idea and see us as an enemy.'

I quickly summoned Shiva and instructed her to send a summons to the Highlord, telling him to meet me inside Northpass Tower. As she left, I shifted the view toward Naxxramas, floating above the Plaguewood. Acherus was currently floating above Corin's Crossing under heavy illusions of invisibility. It would not do to tip off Kel'Thuzad; else the battle he knew would ensue for control over Stratholme would be much harder for his men.

"You summoned me, milord?" asked Mograine as he entered the tower.

"Yes, I have need of your opinion. We have need of a contingency plan in the event that the Argent Dawn becomes aware of our activities before we can secure Stratholme. The last thing we need is the possibility of fighting two factions rather than one, as it is most assuredly plausible that they will see us as a possible enemy. Any suggestions on how to deal with this situation?"

After a pause, Mograine replied. "I believe the best thing we can do to avoid a conflict is to send an envoy to Light's Hope to discuss a possible partnership to raid Naxxramas. We would commence the invasion while our envoy discusses terms with the Argent Dawn leaders. As numerous as we are milord, unless we brought the full might of Northrend upon Naxxramas, we would find it most difficult to penetrate its defenses. We would need to severely weaken it first, and it would not be possible to do so with Acherus as the firepower would be liable to destroy it, providing Kel'Thuzad with the means of escaping. Doing so would mean having to possibly bring in Sindragosa and the Vrykul to act as air and ground support while the Ebon Blade finds a weakness and infiltrates the necropolis, and while the plan would work, it would also leave Northrend vulnerable to a counter-attack that could potentially devastate us. You must keep in mind milord, while we have a significant force, it is vastly underwhelmed by the control of the Scourge. Even with your great power, we have yet to be able to control above 75% of undead activity due to the growing influence of Kel'Thuzad and his minions."

I sighed and nodded my head in agreement. "You are right, Darion. If we sent the full might of Northrend against Naxxramas now, it would leave us defenseless at home. Though I have tried, I have been unsuccessful at converting a large portion of Kel'Thuzad's forces over to our cause. It seems that his influence over his troops continues to grow with each passing day."

"I assume that he does not want a repeat performance of what I managed to do within Naxxramas when you freed me from his influence milord," replied Darion. "The loss of Patchwerk, Noth and I are quite the significant loss as we were probably one of his most powerful agents within Naxxramas. It only makes sense that Kel'Thuzad would work to prevent such a significant loss in the future."

"Indeed," I said. "Very well, I will send Falric and Marwyn over to Light's Hope Chapel to negotiate an alliance between the Argent Dawn and the Knights of the Ebon Blade. Hopefully, they will be willing to listen, else we will have to move forward without them and take the risk. Either way, the distraction should be enough that they will not know of the battle for Stratholme until it is too late."

"Very good milord," replied Darion. "Shall I let them know of their new assignments?"

"Please do so, Darion," I replied. "In the meantime, I have preparations to make."

0-0-0-0

It had been 4 hours since Groups Alpha and Beta had infiltrated the city of Stratholme. My force of 100 death knights and their assorted ghouls, banshees, and gargoyles lay in wait at the entrance to the Plaguewood, just to the south of the servant's entrance to Stratholme. I was at the rear of the army, using my Helm of the Dominator to watch the progress of my death knights within the walls of the city.

It was almost time. Balnazzar and Rivendare were destroyed, and my two groups were working their way back to the entrance, re-raising the dead under our own influence so as to secure the city. At any moment, they would send the signals to our armies that the city was secure and that the invasion of the Plaguewood could commence. Though I knew this to be the right course of action, my feelings about this were still slightly mixed. I can still remember the difficult decision to purge the city six years ago. The choice to kill all those innocent people before they could become undead monstrosities was a decision that haunts me even now, especially when I look upon the ruins of the city and can clearly see my failure as it brimmed with undeath and decay. So many lives lost, doomed before I could even begin to help them.

"Damn Kel'Thuzad," I muttered. "Damn him and his Cult straight to hell."

"Milord?" questioned Darion, who was next to me. I was about to reply when the sky went ablaze in an eerie green glow. Team Beta had released the Death Coils.

"The time is now, my faithful ones! ATTACK!" I cried out as I unsheathed Frostmourne and blessed them with my might, imbuing them with a temporary infusion of unholy strength and speed. They needed no more encouragement than that. They charged.

0-0-0-0

The Scourge undead were not expecting the attack. Death Knights like the ones in Naxxramas turning on them and slaying every single Scourge unit they encountered. Confusion arose amongst the ranks of undead minions within the Plaguewood. Death Coils ripped them apart, runeblades cut them down, and what was worse was that no matter what they threw at them, they could not be stopped. It was as if the Death Knights attacking them had been given an insane power boost similar to what Kel'Thuzad had given the Death Knights that reside in Naxxramas itself. As the undead lost ground, they attempted to retreat to the city of Stratholme, only to run into our forces pouring out of the city and into the battlefield. Realizing that they had nowhere left to run, they made a final stand in the middle of the Plaguewood. None were spared. Finally, after careful planning and execution, the city of Stratholme and the surrounding lands where ours. The banner of the Ebon Blade was draped over the walls of the city, and a company of Death Knights now act as guards through the city as we begin to settle it.

Three of my best runesmiths now occupy the local forge, crafting runic armor and weapons for our forces here in the Plaguelands. Several of my best necromancers used the reanimated abominations to tear down the Slaughterhouse within the eastern section of Stratholme and converted it into a Temple of the Damned. They now reside within, communing with the restless spirits that reside within these grounds, recruiting volunteers for five years of service and an opportunity to strike back at the Scourge forces. In exchange, they would be given a choice once their five years where up – to become a subject of the land of Northrend, being granted safe haven within either Dragonblight or Icecrown and a chance to settle down and live a somewhat normal life, or to be given a final rest and their body destroyed so that no one would be able to resurrect them against their will again. The Scarlet Cathedral to the east of the city is currently being converted into the Ebon Keep, the cities seat of power. It is here that Mograine and myself shall reside while in the city. It is the perfect place to plan out our next moves. The Crusader's Square, in response to this new construction Market Row once again became the center of commerce in the city. An Auction House was in the process of being set up for the use of my subjects while different ghouls, banshee's, and leapers setting up shop to sell their wares and goods to those who would be residing in the city.

As the city continues to be settled by our forces, I find myself in front of the tiny chapel in Elder's Square, where we had freed a paladin hiding within. I am contemplating the ramifications of the peace talks that Falric and Marwyn attempted during the Stratholme invasion. The Argent Dawn did not even let them into the chapel, but rather, they ignored their bearing the white flag of neutrality and attacked, thinking them agents of Kel'Thuzad. Under orders not to harm anyone, they were forced to flee. In either case, the plan worked. They did not find out about the invasion until it was too late. Now there was little they could do to threaten our grip on the Plaguelands. Naxxramas hovered ominously above the Plaguewood and could be easily seen in the distance from where I was standing. Soon, it would be time to strike. Death Knights and Vrykul forces would be brought in from Northrend soon to augment our troops here in preparation for the attack to come. 'Soon, this whole trial will have come to an end. Then, perhaps, I will be able to leave humanity in peace and assure that the undead threat never plagues the living again.'

My train of thought was broken as I felt a tug on my cape. I turned around and looked down, and found what looked like possibly the most adorable ghoul I had ever seen. It was tiny for its kind, and looking at me with puppy dog eyes that seemed to captivate whoever looks at them. Then I noticed the problem. I smiled kindly to the ghoul and knelt down next to it.

"Hello little one. Lost your jaw, have you?" I asked. The ghoul nodded his head rapidly, and I chuckled humorously at the sight of a jawless ghoul. "Very well, let's get that fixed for you, shall we?" I said. I reached into a side pouch attached to my belt and pulled out some Corpse Dust. I charged it with runic power and blew the dust toward the little ghoul's face. In a matter of seconds, a jaw materialized where it should be. The little ghoul moved its new jaw slightly, testing it out, before crying "TIMMY!" and hugging my leg. My mind went numb as the name strung a familiar chord within my mind. I looked at its eyes and found them to be real familiar. I thought back to where I heard that name before it came to me like a strike of lightning.

"I remember you…" I whispered, almost in awe of my find. "I saved you before the Scourge invasion began over six years ago. You're Little Timmy, aren't you?"

"Timmy, Timmy! Timmy Timmy Timmy!" he replied as he nodded his head fast. He moved his head up and down so hard that his new jaw nearly unhinged itself. He grasped it and held it in place for a while and it settled back into place.

Dear Light above, I remember saving this child from gnolls before the invasion took place. To see the child like this broke my heart in two and nearly sent me to tears. I put my large hand on his fragile back and hugged him gently. "I am sorry, child. No one as young as you should have to suffer as you have suffered. I promise you this: in compensation, I will care for you as if you were my own blood. All of your needs will be met, and as time goes on, you will eventually be given a choice – eternal rest, or a life of honorable service to your new family. What say you?" I said, asking for his opinion.

"Timmy! Timmy! Timmy!" he cried and hugged me even tighter. My smile grew as I got back and Timmy backed off some. I summoned Shiva, my personal attendant, and instructed her to prepare a room for Timmy within the Halls of Reflection, right next to mines, and to gather some toys for him to play with while he was staying there. I then created a Death Gate for Shiva to do as I asked.

Once the two of them were on their way back to Icecrown, I turned around and made my way back to the Ebon Barracks. While the settlement of Stratholme was a success, it was only the beginning. We had our foothold in the Eastern Kingdoms, now we need a foothold in Kalimdor. While not as big of a problem, the Razorfen quillboars were being turned into undead by a Scourge lich, and while not a substantial threat, we need agents there ready to contain the problem and strike at its source. I will send some of my lesser Death Knights to handle the situation. After that was taken care of, we needed to start planning our siege of Naxxramas. While I might be stronger, Naxxramas was Kel'Thuzad's domain, and he would be at his most powerful state on his home terrain. Caution and careful planning was the name of the game now, our success depended on it.

Reaching the war room, I sit down and look at the various maps on the table and begin plotting. Contemplating a possible plan of attack, I pulled out a piece of parchment and began writing the beginnings of a plan of action until I was interrupted.

"Milord, we have a problem," said Darion as we walked in, a serious look on his face.

"What is the problem, Highlord?" I asked.

"Kel'Thuzad has made a preemptive strike, milord. The Scarlet Crusade has been decimated, and the few remaining survivors are fleeing via the see northward. I expect they're heading toward your kingdom of Northrend in hopes of escaping the Scourge threat."

I curse inwardly and contemplate the possible ramifications. The Scarlet Crusade was a group of zealots under the unknown influence of the Burning Legion. Their presence in Northrend, with the vast amounts of undead and Vrykul would only serve to send them into a deeper fanaticism the likes of which would possibly pose a threat to wherever they decided to settle.

"Send word to our forces in Northrend," I said. "Have them patrol the coasts and any possible landing points. If they do land in Northrend, send a scouting party and keep an eye on them. Under no circumstances are you to make contact with them unless they press for a confrontation or they begin making inroads into our lands. Remember that they are under the control of the Burning Legion, we cannot risk losing any agents to their cause."

"Very well, milord, however I am not quite finished with my report," Darion said, his look becoming grimmer still.

"Continue," I said.

"After the Scourge drove off the remaining Scarlet Crusaders, they raised the dead into Death Knights and are now using them to attack the residents of Light's Hope Chapel," he said.

This bit of news is most concerning. "It seems that Kel'Thuzad wishes to bind the most powerful agents within the immediate surroundings as he can so he can mount a counter-offensive and take back the Plaguelands under his control. We cannot allow him to succeed, Darion. Sound the alarm and gather our forces. Though they rejected our offer of an alliance, we cannot allow the Argent Dawn to fall to the corruption of the Scourge. We will come to their aid and help them drive the forces of undeath back into their wretched necropolis. We will make them rue the day they decided to settle the lands of Lordaeron and interfere with the lives of the living."

"I'll send the command, milord, your will be done," replied Darion, bowing and, with purpose turning and leaving to give the command. The Scourge War had begun.

_**To Be Continued…**_

_Post-Notes: One of the things I noticed about Acherus: The Ebon Hold while I played WoW once upon a time, was that just like Naxxramas, this giant necropolis was mobile, and while a mobile base is good to have for strategic purposes, it was also more sound for the Ebon Blade to take strategic points and make a more permanent base of operations if they wished to succeed against the Scourge. We saw some of this during their taking of The Shadow Vault in-game. I thought a similar approach should be done in Lordaeron for the purposes of this story, and Stratholme seemed to me like the perfect place for a stronghold due to its size, infrastructure, and the ability to defend from outside threats due to the presence of battlements and city walls. Also, spoiler alert: the Plaguelands will not be the only zones to come under the control of the Ebon Blade! I will not say much on this, as I don't wish to give away too much of my plot, but you will see more incursions into contested territory later in the story._

_Some of the challenges that this chapter presented: a change of pace. I wanted to move this story along without rushing too much, and the taking of Stratholme seemed like the perfect opportunity to do so. The Ebon Blade agents, under the Might of Mograine buff, are equivalent to raid bosses. Against a five man instance-worth of Scourge forces and bosses, they would not pose too much a threat to them. The reason I took this particular approach instead of an epic battle like the Battle of Theramore is that at this stage of the story, the Ebon Blade agents are the equivalent to level 60-70 characters, and anyone who attempted 40 man Naxxramas during Burning Crusade can tell you just how hard the trash hit, much less the bosses. The Ebon Blade needed to take the city quickly, but they needed to do so quietly too, less Naxxramas sends reinforcements and complicates the whole shebang. Another was the editing. I cut this fic by about 700 words after beta'ing; otherwise this fic would be just over 5k words. This was mainly through the cutting out of two sections of the story. One, involving Jaina, didn't fit in quite just yet, while the other, involving Stormwind, would give too much away for the rest of the story and I had no idea how to reword it to not do so. So while I'm not quite happy with the final length of the story, content and quality wise, I'm okay with where things are._

_Next Chapter: We finally get to see the Lich King interact with humans!_

_If you haven't read the pre-notes, please do so, there is important information there regarding my current situation and the status of future updates. _

_With that, I bring this to a close, for now. Keep reading, keep reviewing, and until next time, I remain your faithful DJ, still in the mix, still kicking beats, still in the game, and always thinking of you, my faithful fans._


End file.
